


Lay Your Weary Head to Rest

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate universe - canon divergent, F/M, Gen, M/M, No Spoilers, Post canon, ambiguous time period, headcannon, my ideal ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6083232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their home, their America, their world, was plagued by monsters. Somewhere in Iowa, a suburban family could have just met a werewolf. Somewhere in Washington, a pair of teenagers could have discovered why lovers’ lanes have such terrible reputations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Your Weary Head to Rest

   Everything was said and done. It was time for Chuck to permanently shut down his computer. It was time for the salt lines to be disturbed and the guns to dust. It was time for Baby to go to sleep underneath a calico sheet. It was time for the books to close and for the fangirls to move on. But there wasn't the promised peace at the end. The Winchesters were restless but it was their time. 

   They were still young; fit to hunt and protect. They hated martyrs for unknown causes. Humanity was oblivious except to their wrongdoing.

   It had been a hassle for Death. Dean and Sam kicked and screamed, fussed like children and tried their hardest to reject the honour of having the solely surviving Horseman of the Apocalypse to personally reap them. But in their weakened state, delirious with pain, and aided by a weary Castiel, Death was able to take the Winchesters by the scruff of their necks and take them into the light.

   But it wasn't a beautiful light Death took the three into. It was the dim, slightly busted light on the ceiling of the Impala. Death disappeared. Dean found himself at the wheel and Sam was shotgun. Castiel was staunch and tired in the middle of the backseat. He stared past the windshield. They were on a winding road that led into a forest. ‘I guess this is it. Remember, I pick the music and shotgun shuts his pie-hole.’ Dean nattered and put a cassette. Sam laughed dryly. No one spoke; instead they just soaked in their thoughts with the classic mullet rock playing in the background.

   It was a long journey to their destination. They passed memories and looked on from where they sat. The memories acted like grotesque amusement park animatronics; talking to no one but themselves and pretending whoever owned them was there. They passed memories for Dean, for Sam, and even Castiel.

   Dean's memories were of his tender, family man side. The side of him that would have flourished had his house not burnt down with his mother, had demon’s blood never slithered down Sammy’s throat or if Mary, wilful mother, had never made a demon’s deal.

   Sam’s memories were of independence and of futile attempts to separate himself from fate and the Winchester lineage. He felt bad for gazing at his memories as deep down, he was still very much ready to give up hunting at the drop of the hat; half glad he had never been put on a path of normalcy. The End would have been so much sooner if he had lived the good life, the apple pie life.

   Castiel's memories begged the question. Was he more human or was he more Angel? His memories were of protecting humanity, his special humans, and of rebellion even though those were the memories he would never want to relive. Yet, if he had the energy, he would make those mistakes all over again of it would keep his precious, few humans safe.

   The brothers and their Angel reached the pearly gates at the end of the road. They were huge and beautiful. They were the only tangible things in a realm of white. Dean turned Baby off and the music stopped playing, right as Kansas finished croon about his wayward son character.

   The three got out of Impala and it disappeared. Dean's heart wrenched. He would never get to look after his Baby ever again. Then his stomach lurched as he realised that worst last times for things were imminent.

   The gates shifted and swung open with the sound of trumpets. It was majestic but a little embarrassing. The Winchesters and Castiel didn’t need that kind of fanfare. They had been fully expecting to arrive somewhere else. They had been fully prepared to find themselves on the King of Hell’s doorstep.

   Hannah, in her male form, led a crowd of well-dressed Angels. She smiled serenely. ‘Welcome home, brother. Welcome to the Heaven, Winchesters.’ she said. Out of the ten or so Angels that were greeting them, she was the only one smiling. She was the only one who was at least putting on a joyful pretence; but knowing Hannah, Castiel was quite certain that it wasn’t a facade and that she was genuinely happy to see them.

   ‘So, what’re we doing here?’ Dean asked. ‘Thought we’d get booted to the downstairs basement.’

‘For every problem you have caused, you have managed to fix it – or at least try your hardest. Us Angels have to admire your flawed tenacity when it comes to that.’ Hannah said.

‘Thanks. I think.’ Sam said.

   A dark emotion passed through Hannah. ‘However,’ she said sharply, ‘there will be consequences for you all. We are letting you in on the hope that you have learned your lesson. We don’t want any more deals, any scratching, any escapes. Can we trust you to do just leave “good enough” alone. Sam, Dean, what I am saying is no more attempts to get back to your daily grind on Earth. Please, it’s time for you to rest.’

   The two tried to argue. Their home, their America, their world, was plagued by monsters. Somewhere in Iowa, a suburban family could have just met a werewolf. Somewhere in Washington, a pair of teenagers could have discovered why lovers’ lanes have such terrible reputations.

   Hannah silenced the Winchesters. She took their voices, tied them, with just a majestic hand gesture. ‘You’ve had your stints in heaven before so you probably already know. But I will remind you, in your little piece of Heaven, it is just you and if you are lucky, your soul mate. We have to split you two up. This will be your last time seeing each other, understand? And, we are aware of your friend Ash. We are trying our hardest with dealing with him but he makes such intelligent conversation, I almost want to let him continue his little “Heaven Jumping” game because he has impressed us so much. If he contacts you, you may not leave. You have to ignore him. If you don’t, we will have no other choice but to forfeit your penance and that will mean you will be at Hell’s mercy and do you really want that?’

   It was understandable. The Winchesters were best known for cheating death and having connections in the right place at the right time. ‘We understand.’ Sam said solemnly. Dean huffed, he pouted and he seemed to want to kick up a fuss. 

   But maybe everyone was right. Maybe it was time for a vacation and so Dean yielded. He stayed quiet.

   Hannah sighed. Her eyes darkened. ‘It brings me great pain to do this to you Castiel but you have slaughtered our brothers and sisters by the millions. That kind of scarring runs deep. Eternity will not be enough for us to recover from that but even so; you tried your hardest to heal the bonds – only to damage them again by freeing Metatron. But as a collective, the remaining Angels have decided that we will strip your powers. You will become a human, or something akin. But, we have decided that will give you mercy. We shall let you pick your prison. You can choose any Heaven you like. You can reunite with Jimmy Novak and Amelia Novak, if that is your desire or, you could befriend the occupant in that park you are fond of.’

   Castiel struggled. He glanced at Sam and he glanced at Dean. Sam put his hands up. ‘Cas, deep, profound bond – remember? I won’t be offended if you pick Dean. Besides, I think you’d just third-wheel it with Jimmy and Amelia... and maybe even... with me.’ Sam glanced at Hannah but she gave no hints.

   Dean rolled his eyes. He wondered who Sam was thinking of. Was he thinking of Jess? Or any of the other ladies who had slept with him and died. He snorted and hoped it wasn’t the Thanksgiving Girl who had groped him under the table. He wondered if he should expect a roomie... He tried not to though. 

‘I pick Dean.’ Castiel replied. He swallowed thickly. He didn’t feel guilty. Sam had always known that Castiel truly favoured Dean over him. He felt guilty because he didn’t feel guilty. Hannah smiled her serene smile again.

‘We understand. Say your goodbyes, I suppose.’ Hannah said.

   There was crying. The kind that was relentless. The Angels watched, unperturbed, and hoped that these emotions signified that the boys weren’t going to try anything to get back together and then back to Earth. The Angels could tell that these tears were borne of genuine emotion and dread of separation.

   The tears ended with a long hug. Dean wrapped his arms around Sam who seemed to tower over him. He hugged back. ‘This is it. Bye Sammy.’ Dean’s voice was warbled and he let go reluctantly.

‘Don’t call me that. I’m not a little kid anymore.’ Sam murmured. There was an ironic echo in his voice.

   ‘It truly pains me to do this to you Castiel as I do love you but even I feel worse agony over your sins. I hope your punishment, your stripping of your Grace, isn’t as bad because no one deserves to have agony wished upon them.’ Hannah said.

‘Ever wise.’ an Angel, Ingrid, commented.

   Hannah put out her hands and her dark eyes turned to a pale, blue-white. Castiel was forced into his true form. He was colossal and titan-like. He was gorgeous and hideous at the same time. He was crystalline with a mass of heads bubbling out of his neck. Many eyes, white and black like crevices of another planet, ran through trenches in his crystal-like body. He was like obsidian. His wings, he had nine of them, spanned thousands of miles – or so it seemed from a puny human’s perspective. Slits like feathers peeled off the mineral-like structure protruding from his back. His feathers, if they could be called that, seemed shadowy and grey.

   Castiel’s mouths opened and closed without synchronistic unison. His scream was worse than white noise. It was torturous. If Dean and Sam weren’t already dead, Castiel’s thunderous screech would have killed them.

   Slowly, Castiel’s form was stripped from him. He melted and turned into mist. The mist floated through the air and was slowly abosrbed by Hannah’s hand. She gritted her teeth.

   An immeasurable amount of pain passed and Castiel was left on his knees. He had taken the appearance of Jimmy Novak again; with his trench coat on his back and hooded, blue eyes. He was shivering and shaking. He was drenched in sweat and his soul seemed to be in tatters even though his physical being looked unharmed.

   ‘I apologise Castiel.’ Hannah said yet she seemed to lack sincerity. Her flock of Angels, her protectors and followers, seemed smug. Castiel had a feeling that democracy wanted torturous punishment for the slayer of their brethren. He understood completely. He agreed with them with wholehearted zeal. He deserved the punishment but he didn’t want it. He didn’t want to put his soul through the wringer like that.

   He felt lighter. His back ached. Pain bloomed within every crevice of what remained of his soul.

   Hannah was stony faced. ‘Ingrid and her team, please take Sam to his Heaven. I shall accompany Flagstaff and her team in escorting Dean and Castiel to their Heaven.’ Hannah commanded. The Angels split and Dean waved one last pathetic wave at Sam. He smiled back and the two turned their backs on each other.

   The walk was short and Sam smiled when he arrived. He saw a door with two names on it. Tears crept into his eyes again. ‘Do you know her?’ Ingrid whispered.

‘Yeah.’ he whispered. He stood in front of the door and he ran his fingers of the girl’s name. The badge felt like plastic. Ingrid opened the door for Sam and he stepped inside.

   It was his dorm room at Stanford but half of it didn’t belong to him – or his old roommate. No, this side of the dorm room was too froufrou. The occupant of the other side of the room was lying on her thin, single bed. A blonde looked up, surprised, her lips pursed together and her eyes wide with shock. She removed her headphones.

   ‘I’ve never had visitors before. ‘Specially one not at hot as you. Wait... Sam! Is that you?’ she asked, stunned and she got up. She glanced down on herself. ‘Damn, I’m not really decent right now.’ She was in booty shorts and her Smurf shirt.

   Sam walked towards her and pulled her in for the biggest hug. Tears slid down his cheeks and into her wavy hair. ‘Jess...’ he said.

‘Sam.’ she murmured back with a hug just as big. ‘You’re so tall. And your hair, it’s so long. I didn’t recognise you. If it weren’t for your beautiful brown I eyes... I wouldn’t have recognised you.’

   Sam lifted Jess off her feet and she giggled. ‘So, are we going to talk about what’s gone down since I’ve been gone?’

‘It’s a long story.’ Sam said, sheepish and not wanting to let Jess know about all the trysts he’s had in her absence, and about his addiction to demon blood and the fact that he’s the Lucifer’s vessel.

   ‘You’re going to think I’m crazy.’ Sam said.

‘Entertain me.’ Jess smiled.

‘I never did end up telling you the family business.’

‘No. You said it was men’s business.’

‘Well it’s not... Just ask Jo or Ellen... Because it’s hunting things, saving people... From the things that go bump in the dark.’

   Jess giggled and she pulled Sam to her bed. She cuddled up against him. ‘Tell me from the beginning.’

‘You’re not going to like everything I’ve got to say.’ Sam said.

‘Well I’ll just have to toughen up now, won’t I?’ Jess mused.

   The walk for Dean was a little longer than it had been for Sam. The Angels didn’t speak. They walked. Hannah made furtive glances at Castiel and soon they arrived at a door with a single name on it: Dean Winchester.

   ‘Goodbye Castiel.’ Hannah said and Flagstaff opened the door for Dean and Castiel. They stepped inside, wary, and the door closed on them.

   It wasn’t quite the bunker. He had been expecting his room in the Bunker to have been magically recreated as his Heaven. It was similar, but not quite. This room seemed to be relative to the many hotels he had stayed in but if he had to pick one, he would say it most closely resembled the hotel he had stayed in December twenty-fourth, 1991.

   Castiel wandered around the room. It was certainly big enough for two and when he opened the window, he could smell pine. ‘Well?’ Dean asked.

‘Well what?’ Castiel asked, a tad snappish.

‘Do you think it’ll do for the rest of eternity?’ Dean asked.

‘Perhaps.’

‘Good. Glad you’re here with me, buddy. I can’t drink all this beer in the fridge. For the love of... it’s Thighslapper, can you believe it?’

   Dean pulled out two bottles of ale and Castiel took one off him. Their eyes met. ‘So, are we going to have another long conversation about, um, the whole eye-sex thing.’

‘I’m sure there are other ways we can resolve that issue.’ Castiel flirted.


End file.
